


Supergirl? Supergay

by uhpockuhlipz



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, SuperCorp, just a fluffy collection of one shots, karlena, okay they are no longer all fluffy, one shots, so far THEY fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:00:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhpockuhlipz/pseuds/uhpockuhlipz
Summary: A collection of tumblr prompted Karlena one-shots.





	1. Chapter 1

 

**Prompt:** _kara accidentally sits at lenas table at a restaurant where she was waiting for a business partner but the girl is too cute rambling on about journalism she doesnt dare tell her she sat down to the wrong table (?)_

//

//

//

Lena is early to her business dinner, as she always is. Being even close to late always ties her stomach in sick, slippery knots and she absolutely hates that creeping feeling of anxiety. It makes her feel somehow less, like she isn’t in control, like she isn’t deserving of running a multi-billion dollar company. And she has to be. 

She’s the only Luthor left to do it. 

Besides, being early means she can set the stage. It means that when the pompous, condescending men she is supposed to be meeting show up, she will already be two steps ahead. And as a woman in a man’s world, being two steps ahead isn’t just important, it’s a requirement. 

Lena is startled out of her thoughts when someone drops into the chair across from her, all flustered smile and wind-tossed hair. “Sorry I’m late,” she says and Lena opens her mouth to tell her that she isn’t, that Lena isn’t who she’s looking for, but she doesn’t get the chance. The girl is unwinding her scarf and shrugging off her coat, talking a mile a minute about some sort of interview, her new job as a reporter, how difficult her boss is. 

Lena finds herself listening with a half-smile, leaning back in her chair with the half-glass of wine she’s allowed herself cupped in her hand. She sips and studies the flushed cheeks and curling hair and slightly fogging glasses that the girl removes to scrub on her shirt and finds herself… charmed. She is an absolute delight.

“Anyway, so that’s why I’m late,” she says, and Lena realizes that this whole speech has been some winding apology. “I’m really sorry. I know it has to be really bad dating etiquette and I’d totally get it if you want to blow me off now. I’m not really good at this whole…” She waves a hand vaguely. “Blind date… thing. My sister talked me into it.”

Lena should say that she isn’t the date this girl is looking for, that there’s been a mixup. She should, but she doesn’t. She only tilts her head and smiles again, leaning slightly closer across the table. “You have a sister?” she prompts, watching the other woman light up. Her eyes are very blue behind those thick-framed glasses, very clear. When she starts to tell Lena about her sister - Alex this, Alex that - the smile reaches all the way to those eyes and she can’t look away. 

“I can’t imagine anyone would ever blow you off,” she says at last when the story winds down. She is rewarded with a smile, sweet and bashful, which Lena returns genuinely. She isn’t lying. She doesn’t believe anyone could sit across from this girl and feel anything but warm and completely… enamored, honestly. There is just something about her that is so… Lena doesn’t even have a word for it. There’s just something. 

Then Lena glances towards the door and sees there the men she’s been expecting passing their coats off to the hostess. With a pang of regret, she knows she has to say goodbye to her accidental companion. She looks back to her and sighs a little. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re a little later to your date than you expected. I’m actually here for a business meeting. Lena Luthor,” she adds, offering her hand. “Not the blind date.”

“Oh.” That pretty face goes pink and Lena can’t help but smile again, wrapping her fingers around the ones that clasp her hand. “Kara. Danvers. I’m sorry, she said she’d be wearing a red blouse and I guess I just thought you were… but you’re not.” Kara looks helplessly around, wincing a bit. “She’s probably gone by now.”  
“I’m sorry.” Lena laughs again, a bit sheepish herself this time, and gives Kara’s hand a squeeze. She kind of isn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t mean to keep you.” 

Kara only shrugs and there is nothing in her expression that speaks of actually being upset. She looks back at Lena and her cheeks grow pinker, her smile grows warmer. Lena feels her breath catch because that smile is for her and she can see her business partners heading for her table but all she wants is to stay here, holding the hand of Kara Danvers, sitting on the receiving end of that smile. 

“I have a meeting,” she murmurs, “Or I’d ask you to stay for dinner to make it up to you.” 

Kara follows her gaze and must spot the men heading towards them. She pulls her hand gently from Lena’s and swings her coat back on, winding the scarf around her neck again. “Of course,” she says as she does so. “It’s fine, I get it. I kind of accidentally took over half your night. I’m really sorry again, Miss Luthor– wait. Luthor, as in-”

Lena’s blood chills. “As in Lex, yes. My brother.”

Kara’s brows draw together and she frowns a little. The expression doesn’t suit her and Lena wishes her name hadn’t brought that look to her face. “I was going to say ‘as in L-Corp,‘” Kara says, surprising Lena. “I won’t judge you based on your family, Miss Luthor. You’re your own person.”

“Oh.” It is rare that Lena is caught off-guard, but Kara Danvers has managed it. “I… yes, as in L-Corp. that’s my company.”

Kara smiles again, so brightly that it’s almost blinding. “Well… I guess I should go now, since you have a meeting and all.”

“I… yes. My meeting.” 

“Right. Have a good night, Miss Luthor.” 

She starts to walk by and Lena manages to get her wits about her enough to snag her hand, tugging Kara to a halt. “Just Lena, please,” she says, casting a quick glance in the direction of the men she’s been waiting on before looking up at Kara again. “Would you let me make your evening up to you? Perhaps tomorrow night?”

Kara tilts her head, lower lip caught between her teeth as she suppresses a smile, and Lena’s breath hitches again. She’s so… something. “Are you asking me on a date?”

She laughs, just a little. “I suppose I am.”

“Wow.” Kara blows out a breath that sounds rather nervous and giggles in a way that sounds the same before she nods. “Yeah, okay. That’d be… really awesome. Um.” She pats at her pockets until she finds a small notebook and then again until she finds a pen. She scribbles quickly on a sheet of paper and tears it off, passing it down to Lena. “Give me a call when your meeting is over I guess? If you actually want to. You don’t have to.” Flushing, Kara starts backing up towards the door, and Lena watches her bump into a serving stand. She has to cover her mouth to hide her laugh as she scrambles to catch it before it can crash to the floor. Um… bye, Lena.” 

And then she’s gone and Lena is pocketing the scribbled number, rearranging her features into an expression more suited for her meeting as the men join her.

  
//

  
Later, when her driver is taking her home, she pulls the note out again. It says Kara’s name and number, followed by a scribbled heart. 

She’s still smiling when she finishes dialing and brings her phone up to her ear.


	2. life on krypton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kara tells Lena about life on Krypton.

She watches her through the dark for long, secret minutes, drinking in the perfection of her profile as it’s silhouetted by the moon. Lena stands on her balcony, ninety-six stories up, and looks softer than Kara has ever seen her look. Her hair is loose and damp, her body is wrapped in a thick robe, her feet are bare, and she cradles a half-full glass of wine (which, Kara notes, she hasn’t sipped in the seventeen minutes she has been watching her).

 

It’s the kind of soft that makes Kara want to land beside her and wrap her in a hug, though she’s certain such a gesture would not be accepted or appreciated. Not with her crest emblazoned across her chest. Not with her cape swirling from her shoulders. Supergirl is not who Lena would want to see after everything that happened and she doesn’t want to push too hard.

 

Still, too many days have passed since Lillian was arrested and Kara can’t keep putting off this conversation. No one – not from the DEO, the FBI, the city council, or Supergirl herself – had thanked Lena for what she’d done. Granted, Lena had left the scene fairly quickly and had been acting fairly reclusive since, but that isn’t an excuse. After all, it isn’t like it’s hard for Kara to meet up with her if she just seeks her out.

 

She proves that now as she finally closes the space between them, landing softly on the balcony beside the subject of her thoughts. There is regret in her for the way Lena tenses, finally lifting her wine for a sip in an attempt at nonchalance that is marred by how tightly she clutches the glass. Kara hates that her presence causes such discomfort. And it’s a little demoralizing because… well, because she’s seen Lena relaxed. She’s seen Lena smile, laugh, reach out. She’s been the _reason_ for all of that before. But it’s never the same when she’s Supergirl. Never like it is when she’s just Kara. It’s strange, having someone trust only half of her.

 

And now that she’s responsible, in part, for Lillian’s arrest, it seems that the bits and pieces of the softer Lena she’d started to see as Supergirl were hidden away again.

 

“Supergirl. To what to I owe this great honor?”

 

Her voice makes Kara want to wrap her arms self-consciously around herself. It is brittle. Not cold, but not welcoming either. The sarcasm is hard to mistake. And worse even than the lack of welcome is how _tired_ Lena seems, like she doesn’t have the energy to hold up the walls she’s erected, but she’s still forcing herself to. Because she doesn’t trust Supergirl, or like her. She doesn’t want her here.

 

Kara almost wants to cry.

 

“L… Miss Luthor. Hello.” Kara folds her arms, unfolds them again, sets her hands on her hips. When there is no return greeting, her confidence wavers and she drops both arms to her sides, fingers twisting the edges of her cape as she steps forward. Lena is still leaning on the balcony railing, those sharp eyes staring up at the sky. Kara follows her gaze, leaning on the railing beside her. “They looked different back on Krypton,” she notes quietly, and it isn’t what she wants to say, but it’s all she can manage to get out.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“The stars,” Kara explains. “I mean, I guess it isn’t that different, but it’s not… the same.”

 

Lena finally looks at her, but now it’s Kara who can’t meet her eyes. Kara who stares up and tries to remember, though her memories of Krypton are admittedly foggier than they had been when she was younger. It isn’t that she even remembers what the stars looked like from Krypton, but that she remembers thinking it as a child. _The stars are so different here. Everything is so different. I want to go home._

 

Now Earth has been home for so long that she’s starting to question if Krypton really counts anymore. Especially because it looks more and more like she didn’t truly know the family she’d had there. And didn’t family make a home? She looks down, looks to Lena. Her heart aches because if that thought is true, then had Lena ever had a home anywhere?

 

“I loved my parents, my planet. My family. No,” she says when Lena starts to shift away again and without thinking she reaches out, her hand laying over hers. Lena freezes in place, staring with a hard expression at their hands, and Kara jerks quickly away. “Sorry, I just-- let me finish. Please?” Lena doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t move either. Taking that as a yes, Kara inhales slowly and looks back to the sky.

 

“I loved them the way children love their family. Completely, without question, but also without truly knowing who they were. The way you loved your parents, your brother. And the thing is...” Kara reaches up, tucking a loose curl behind her own ear. Her fingers brush the bridge of her nose – habit – but there are no glasses to push up. Her hand fall again, fingers tapping on the railing. “The thing is, even when we grow up and learn who they really are, or were, we still love them.”

 

She looks to Lena then, and Lena is watching her quietly in turn. There’s a question in her eyes, but she doesn’t ask and Kara is grateful. She isn’t sure she’s ready to say out loud what she’s starting to believe.

 

That her parents weren’t good people.

 

“I guess that’s why I haven’t thanked you yet for what you did,” she murmurs. “Becuase it doesn’t feel right to say thank you when all I really want to say is that I… I’m sorry, Lena. I’m sorry they disappointed you, and that they hurt you. I’m sorry they aren’t who you thought they were. And I’m sorry that you’ve probably been standing here thinking about how much you wish you didn’t still love them.”

 

Lena’s head tilts slightly and the silence stretches. Finally she steps back towards the sliding doors of her apartment. “It’s a bit chilly out here.” After a hesitation she adds, “Would you like to come in, Supergirl?”

 

Kara sucks her lips between her teeth, then blows out a breath and smiles. “I’d like that.”

 

She follows Lena inside, sliding the door shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, you can find me on tumblr at proudlyunicorn. (:


	3. it starts in my toes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena's had a long day and Kara helps her relax.

Lena Luthor is so beyond tired of men.

Her days are filled with them, specifically men of the rich white variety, and it’s absolutely exhausting. It doesn’t help that they’re all around the age Lionel Luthor would’ve been had the heart attack not gotten him ten years before, men in their fifties and sixties to Lena’s own twenty-four. Men who all think they can do her job better than her because she’s young, because she’s a woman, despite the fact that L-Corp is flourishing in ways it never would have under her father’s, or even Lex’s, control. 

It’s even more exhausting to deal with the handful of younger men she sees on occasion. They’re even more smug than their older counterparts, even more condescending, and god, there’s a reason she’s a goddamned lesbian.

So it is with great relief that she unlocks the door to her apartment and pushes inside, flicking on the light in her foyer. 

“I’m home,” she calls out. Technically, her apartment should be empty. She lives alone, it’s dark and quiet. No one is inside. But the moment she calls out, there’s a soft tapping on her balcony door and she smiles to herself. Kicking off her heels, Lena pads into her living room and opens the door for Kara.

“How long have you been waiting out there?” she asks, pressing up on tiptoes to brush her lips across Kara’s. Kara’s hands catch her waist to help her balance as she smiles bashfully into their soft kiss.

“Only since you texted to say you were heading home… plus like, an hour. Give or take.”

“You are ridiculous.” Lena laughs and then sighs, settling against Kara with her head on her shoulder. It’s the best she’d felt all day. She can feel the tension seeping out of her shoulders, can feel the way Kara cradles her so carefully in her arms, supporting her weight. “God, you feel so good. Are you staying tonight?”

“I’m staying,” Kara agrees, her cheek rubbing against the top of Lena’s head. “Finished up flying around the city and everything. Little bit of superheroing done for the day.”

“Hardly little,” Lena returns with a stifled yawn, face turning into Kara’s shoulder. “You’re saving lives. I’m proud of you.” She yawns again and clings just a little tighter to Kara, her eyes closed. “But I’m glad you’re mine now. I missed you today.”

“You were busy.” Kara’s fingers slide through her hair and Lena all but purrs when her fingers settle at the base of her neck and knead gently. “Long day?”

“Mmm.”

“Come on.”

Kara takes her hands and leads Lena down the hall, walking backwards the entire time so she can grin at her as she does so. Lena watches her with affection warm in her chest, not even protesting when she’s led into the bathroom. Kara releases her hands and turns to the tub, moving in quick flashes until it begins to fill. Then she’s back in front of Lena again, her fingers slow and delicate as she begins pushing the buttons of Lena’s blouse through the slots, blue eyes locked on green.

Lena watches her, eyes half-lidded, her heart beating steadily in her chest. Kara leans in and kisses her and Lena returns it, equally soft, as hands push her shirt off her shoulders.

It doesn’t take long before she is fully naked and stepping into the tub, steam curling up from the water and bubbles excessive because of course they are, it’s Kara. She’d also made the water amazingly hot, but it feels good and Lena sighs again as she sinks in. It feels amazing on everything that aches.

Kara follows not long after, sliding into the tub behind Lena, and she wastes no time in leaning back into her with another sigh. There are a lot of things she prefers about Kara’s apartment, but Lena adores her own tub, big enough for both of them to sit like this. 

When strong hands fall on her shoulders and begin to gently press and rub, Lena all but moans. Kara is very good with her hands, and very good to Lena. 

“You are absolutely the best thing in my life,” she says, head tipping back onto Kara’s shoulder so that she can press her lips to her cheek.

“What a coincidence,” Kara murmurs against the side of her head, “Because you’re the best in mine.” 

Lena smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They sit there in the steaming water for ages, the scent of lavender soap (Lena’s) and honey-and-vanilla shampoo (Kara’s) wafting around them. When it starts to grow cool, Kara lifts her out and dries her off, humming as she presses kisses into Lena’s skin; her shoulders, her lips, her forehead, her collarbones. When she’s dry, Kara sweeps her up again, carries her bridal style into the bedroom where she drops her unceremoniously onto the bed. Lena gasps and then laughs as she bounces once, twice, and settles.

“I can’t believe you just dropped me,” she says, trying for indignant, but failing because she can’t stop laughing.

Kara only grins and tugs her towel away before crawling in after her, yanking the blanket up around their naked bodies. She sprawls across Lena, nudges their noses together, and Lena sighs with affection as she threads her fingers into damp blonde hair.

“You’re such trouble,” she murmurs. Kara only smiles and presses their lips together.

“Sleep,” she offers. “You’re tired.”

“Mm…” Lena’s eyes are already closing. She feels warm and soft and well-tended to. “And you’ll stay?” She just wants to make sure. Sometimes it’s still hard to believe that someone would.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Kara whispers against her ear, lips pressing to the shell of it. Lena lets herself drift off just like that, Kara’s head falling onto her chest, her hand still lost in blonde hair.

And when Lena wakes up, Kara is still there.


	4. Can't Save Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr prompt: The first time Kara isn't able to save someone it's a kid. A little boy no older than eight or nine. Alex and J'onn try to comfort her, tell her that it wasn't her fault. It doesn't stop her from watching the video over and over trying to find where she went wrong, how she could have saved him and then locking herself in the kryptonite levels turned high, pummeling a cement block until her hands are bloody when Alex takes her tablet. It goes on for hours until Alex calls Lena.

She pummels cement, watches it crack and chip and break apart until it’s reduced to rubble. And it’s not enough, it’s not _enough. S_ he can still see wide, blue eyes staring up through the rubble of the fallen building glazed over with the shock of death, can still hear his mother’s screams. 

( _Ben! Ben! My baby! Find my baby, Supergirl! Please find my baby!_

And she did, she had. 

But she couldn’t save him.)

She grabs another cement block and flies it into the chamber with its Kryptonite lights, the ones that let her feel what it means to be human. She turns them on full and then rounds on cement, screaming as she throws her fist into it. The shock of pain shoots up her arm. She’s sure something is fractured, but she welcomes the pain. 

(Ben Miller’s body had been far more broken than her stupid hand.)

The thought has her throwing another punch, and another, breathing hard and uneven as she pummels it. The skin along her knuckles splits and she is sure that the knuckles have been broken, crushed, but she keeps going. She keeps going and keeps going and keeps going and she _has_ to keep going, she has to forget, she has to burn away this terrible, heavy ache until she can’t _feel_ anymore, she has to take on the burden of Kathy Miller’s heartbreak, she has to-

“Kara.”

She freezes with her torn, bloody hand pressed to the unforgiving block of stone, staring hard at the smears of crimson coating it. They are the recordings of every emotion building into a raging storm inside of her chest, hieroglyphics of her own design painted by her fury, her sadness, her fear. 

“He was a baby,” she breathes into the silence. She can feel Lena behind her, but she doesn’t turn. She can feel her powers seeping back into her body (Alex switched the machine off, she thinks dully) and when she focuses on her, she can hear Lena’s steady heartbeat. Slow, unaffected. 

No, not unaffected, she thinks when she picks up the slightly jagged tenor of her breathing. No unaffected, but sympathetic. Kara turns to her, the bones in her hands already knitting back together, and almost glares at her. So hard that her eyes burn and she has to look away again and force the heat back again. 

“He was a baby,” she whispers again, “And I let him die.”

She expects placating words or soft reassurances. She expects a tough-love lecture like she got from J’onn or a list of reasons it wasn’t her fault like she got from Alex. She expects Lena to give her logic, to try and prove that it wasn’t her fault when Kara _knows_ it was, but she doesn’t do any of that. 

She steps quietly into the room and touches her fingers to Kara’s cheek, thumbing away the tears she hadn’t realized were falling. Her eyes, such a brilliant green ringed in a halo of the purest blue, flicker across her face as they breathe together. Her thumb touches the corner of her mouth, traces over her chin to catch a tear that hangs there.

“You’re allowed to be angry,” she tells her softly. 

And that’s it.

Kara stares at her and then whirls away, her eyes firing again. This time when she screams, the cement block explodes from her heat vision, Kara careful to shield Lena from the debris with her own battered body.

When she sinks to her knees, Lena drops down beside her, holds her through her choking sobs, rocks her like a child. Kara covers her face with both hands and doubles over with pain, but Lena only soothes, fingers stroking her hair, her back, tracing the curve of her spine.

“You tried, Kara,” she says softly. “You tried so hard. You can’t save everyone.”

Kara turns and presses her face into Lena’s lap, willing away the images of Ben Miller’s small, crushed body. “I know,” she whispers. “I know, but… why couldn’t I at least save _him?”_

Lena doesn’t have an answer and so stays silent. 

And Kara hurts, she hurts, she _hurts…_


	5. Rosy the Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So some cool kids from tgifemslash and I designed this little character called Rosy via a headcanoning spree one night and this is the result.
> 
> Kara wakes after her first time sleeping over at Lena's to discover a surprise guest in the bedroom.

She’s drawn from sleep by a strange, mechanical sort of sound that she can’t place.

 

Drowsy, disoriented, Kara lays still and tries to pinpoint it. Not the AC clicking on. Not a vacuum or a dishwasher. Weird. Very weird, but she’s really starting to not care at all, cozy as she is in what is probably the most comfortable bed in the world.

 

Wait. Comfy bed? Why is her bed this comfy?

 

Kara blinks open her eyes as the beeping and whirring grows louder, trying to figure out where, exactly, she is. She nearly screams when she finds a small, mechanical pair of eyes very close to her own, peering at her from over the edge of the mattress. The mattress of the very comfy bed that isn’t hers because it is, she remembers belatedly, Lena Luthor’s. 

 

And staring at her, shutters blinking as it no doubt files her face into its database, is a robot.

“Lena,” she hisses, not daring to turn her head away as she pushes an arm across the bed, shoving through a mountain of fallen decorative pillows until she finds the smooth, warm skin of an arm. “Lena!”

 

“Mmm.” The sleepy hum comesfrom somewhere to the left, muffled by bedding and obviously not from someone fully conscious. Kara gives the arm she’s holding a gentle shake until she feels Lena stir, hears the rhythm of her heart change as she becomes more conscious. “Good morning,” she says softly.

 

“Lena, there’s a tiny robot looking at me,” Kara whispers, still staring. Even as she speaks, something begins to hum to life inside of the robot. Its eyes shift and adjust, still watching her over the edge. And then it speaks in a mechanical, faintly British accent.

 

“Good morning, new guest. Would you care for a refreshment?”

 

Lena manages to shove through the mountain of pillows then, nudging them back up to the top of the bed so that her sleep-creased face and slumberous eyes appear. “That’s Rosy,” she says, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and irritation. “I meant to shut him off last night, but we were a bit distracted.”

 

“Rosy? Like the Jetsons?” Kara asks, still eyeing the robot.

 

“Mm. Mhm. Lex… Lex named him, when we built him. He’s been improved since then, but the name stuck.” Lena lays her head back on a random pillow and burrows back in.

 

“Good morning, Miss Lena,” Rosy says, and he sounds like a very tiny butler as his eyes click and adjust again. Recognizing her voice patterns or her face? Both? He’s fascinating and Kara finds her interest growing the more she watches him. “Do you need anything?”

 

“More sleep,” Lena grumbles, face pressed into her pillow now.

 

“As you wish. And you, new guest? Do you need anything?”

 

“My name is Kara and I love you,” she breathes. Somewhere behind her, Lena snorts a laugh into her pillow.

 

“Understood. Registering new guest…” There’s a moment of humming, the hard drive processing the change, then, “Good morning, Kara and I love you. Do you need anything?”

 

Lena laughs fully then, rolling closer until she can wrap an arm around Kara’s waist and press her face into her shoulder blade. “He’s still got some charming quirks,” Lena murmurs, lips pressing kisses down the curve of Kara’s spine. “If you correct him, he’ll re-register you.”

 

“No way.” Grinning, Kara rolls in Lena’s embrace and squashes their noses together, her fingers tucking black hair back behind her ear. “It’s perfect. He’s perfect. God, he’s so _cute!_ I didn’t know you had a robot. How does he work? What kind of memory system does he operate on? What is he programmed to do?” She rattles off several more questions, talking a mile a minute until Lena groans and burrows into her chest.

 

“Kara. Sunday. Sleep.”

 

“But-”

 

“Sleep, and I’ll show you the rest.”

 

“The rest?”

 

“The robots Lex and I built.” Lena’s eyes are already closed, her words growing less succinct. “I’ve got a closet full of old prototypes. But sleep first.”

 

Kara considers, eyes narrowing, arms already looping around Lena’s waist. “And you’ll tell me how Rosy works too?”

 

“I’ll tell you,” Lena promises on a sigh.

 

“Deal.” Kara presses a kiss to the top of Lena’s head and nuzzles into her hair, listening to her heart and her breaths as they steady out into sleep. There’s more sounds from behind her and then Rosy, obviously deciding that his human companions have no need of him, rolls from the room. Part of Kara wants to follow, to watch him move and work, to discover what sort of things this small little creation does.

 

But she’s holding Lena in her arms, laying in her bed with her, and the bigger part of her decides that robots can wait.


	6. Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena spend a Sunday morning together and they're soft, gay children.

You don’t often sleep in after her.

 

It happens rarely, only after late night alien fights and early morning hours filled with paperwork. You tumble into bed after and reach out automatically to curl around her, to pull her into you so that her hips fit to yours, her body curves to yours. She is warm and soft and she fits with you in a way you’d never expected before finding this.

 

(She stirs for a moment, her hand falling over the one you rest against her belly, and mumbles an inquiry about your night. You don’t answer because she’s asleep again before you can, but you love her for trying.)

 

It’s rare, but you aren’t surprised to find her gone when you finally peel your tired eyes open. The sheets at your side are cool and you know it’s been hours. Lena is not great at sleeping in on a normal day, but on days you sleep in? She’s even worse. Without a distracting alien to keep her in bed, Lena tends to disappear. If you aren’t vigilant, she’ll try to work, and that’s just not acceptable. Not on a Sunday, one of the few days off she gives herself.

 

So you drag yourself from bed with the quietest of groans, stretching your tired body. It’s true that you don’t hurt or strain yourself, but you can certainly _exhaust_ yourself. You’ve managed to this time, all the way through, and if you couldn’t hear the subtle sound of Lena’s heartbeat through the walls when you listen for it, you might’ve even believed you’d blown out your powers again. But no, they’re there.

 

You’re still you.

 

You can feel them as you step quietly down the long hallway, buzzing through every nerve ending in your body. A constant, humming undercurrent of awareness. There was a time it didn’t exist, when you’d been a child, when you’d lived under a red sun, but that time is long past now. Now you feel wrong without them.

 

As you feel wrong without her.

 

You step into the kitchen, quiet, feet just barely brushing the floor. You want just a glimpse of her before she knows you’re there because there is nothing to compare to Sunday morning Lena. Sunday morning Lena is tousled hair and bare feet. She’s a loose-fitting university t-shirt falling off one shoulder (your shirt, you realize with a jolt) and glasses slipping down her nose. She’s slightly pouting lips and a pen tapping lightly against them. She is four cups of coffee within two hours and NYT crossword puzzles being contemplated over a quickly cooling bagel. She is a steady heartbeat accentuated by the soft fall of rain outside.

 

She is perfect, and she is yours.

 

You step into the room at last, your feet touching the ground fully now, your own hair in a messy bun atop your head so that it doesn’t fall in the way when you dip down to press a kiss to the top of hers.

 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” she greets softly, and you can hear her smile in her voice despite the fact she doesn’t look up from her crossword. It’s the greeting you usually give to her on weekend mornings and it sounds so sweet coming from her instead, so unfamiliar. She knows the basic story, of course, but Lena hadn’t grown up with such things. It’s almost like hearing her speak in a foreign language. So you kiss her head again and sit in the next chair over, tugging at her until she takes the hint and stands to slide onto your lap, newspaper still in hand.

 

“A 1979 sci-fi thriller,” Lena murmurs, tilting her head onto your shoulder. “Five letters. Second letter is an L.”

 

“Mmm.” You turn your head and nuzzle at the soft place behind the ear, the palest, most perfect patch of skin. “Alien,” you offer after a moment and Lena studies it, then makes some sound of agreement as she fills it in. You nuzzle closer, your lips playing across her skin now until she’s shifting on your lap, setting the newspaper beside her bagel to turn and face you fully.

 

“You’re distracting,” she grumbles as you slide your fingers through all that thick, dark hair, grinning up at her.

 

“You’re pretty,” you offer in return, and you say it likes it’s some amazing comeback instead of just the truth. Your kisses find the curve of her jaw, tracing the sharp line of it. “So, so pretty. And smart. And amazing. And also really attractive with your glasses on.” She leans back and you watch her, smile softening as you trace her cheek with your fingertips. “Did I mention amazing?”

 

“You did,” she agrees in that soft, shy way of hers, the voice she uses when she’s not quite sure what to do with your shower of compliments. Leaning in, she lays her lips on yours, kissing you until you’re powerless despite the super strength filling you up. You’ve never felt quite so filled up as you do when she’s with you like this, warm and pliant against you, her mouth slow against yours.

 

When she pulls away again, you’re somewhat dazed. She smiles and pecks your lips again, then scoops up her crossword and turns back to face the table, nibbling on her bagel. “O’Connor’s Supreme Court successor,” she says, and there’s a smirk in her voice now instead of that easy softness. This time it’s you squirming in the chair, lips pouting slightly.

 

“Lena-”

 

“Nope. Not enough letters.” And oh, she’s teasing now, sipping her coffee while you pout just a little more.

 

“The answer’s Alito,” you say, huffing. “Please kiss me again?”

 

she takes her time filling in the name, starts to laugh when you whine her name again. This time when she sets the paper aside, she stands and tugs you to your feet as well, her arms looping around your neck. And she’s perfect, she’s _perfect,_ smiling up at you with eyes so warm that you’re almost certain see nothing but you, even with hundreds of other people in the room. People more noticeable, people far more beautiful.

 

There is only you for her.

 

“I love you,” you tell her quietly, leaning in to brush your noses together. Her teasing smile softens and she tilts her chin up until your lips meet.

 

“Keep telling me,” she whispers into you and so you do, imprinting the words on her skin so that she soaks them in, so that she feels how real they are. You’ve never meant anything more.

 

“I won’t ever stop telling you,” you tell her before kissing her fully, your arms wrapping fully around her to lift her up and hold her close.

 

There is no sound then but the rain and your own heartbeats.


	7. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mini college AU that was literally just written to cheer up a pal on a bad day.

“You work too hard.”

Kara collapses onto Lena’s bed, hanging upside down off of it as she watches her friend across the room. Lena glances up from her desk and offers a smile (small, distracted, but affectionate) before glancing back down to her laptop. Even upside down, Kara can see the way her brow furrows with her concentration. Or was it consternation? It was always hard to tell with Lena’s work. Kara sighs and rolls over.

“I’m serious, Lena,” she says, drawing the other girl’s gaze back to her. “You’re going to make your head explode.”

“Not all of us can pass organic chemistry without studying,” Lena teases softly.

“I study! I just…” She shrugs helplessly. “It’s boring.”

“So you keep saying.” Lena taps her pen against her lips as she glances back down at the book in her lap. When Kara sighs again, however, she sets it aside with an exasperated laugh and turns fully to face her. “What’s on your mind?” she asks.

“It’s _Friday,”_ Kara says immediately, shooting upright. “And you’re studying orgo. That’s not fun, Lena, that’s work. On a Friday. It’s practically illegal.”

Lena’s smiling now, an amused curl of lips as she watches Kara from across the room, rocking her chair back and forth with her hands folded across her stomach. “so what’s your suggestion, oh might fun planner?”

“Sleepover.”

“Sleepover?” Lena laughs and shakes her head. “Are we twelve?”

“An adult sleepover then,” Kara corrects quickly. She stands and crosses the room, sitting now on the edge of Lena’s desk so that her friend shuffles back a couple of inches, watching her with that unreadable look she sometimes gets. “With takeout and wine and… um… I don’t know. Like, an R rated movie or something.” She watches Lena’s head tilt, smiles encouragingly because she can see her considering it now. “Come on, please? I hardly ever get to see you outside of class and crashing your study sessions.”

“God, Kara.” Lena laughs again and swats at her knee. “Enough with the eyes. Fine, okay. An adult sleepover it is. But! I get to pick the movie.”

Kara grins.

“Deal.”

 

//

 

She deeply, deeply regrets letting Lena pick the movie.

It’s shockingly gory and puts her off of the piles of fast food sitting around them, which is… practically unheard of. Kara is never put off food, but wow, this movie is managing it.

Lena, on the other hand, is all but inhaling her share, eyes glued to the screen with rapt attention. Kara had expected some boring biopic or mind-numbing documentary. Would actually prefer it at this point, but no. No, instead she’s stuck with the bloodfest of flying body parts and splattering brains.

Kara scoots herself until she’s sitting behind Lena (she’s definitely not _hiding,_ Lena’s head just happens to block the screen) and lets her fingers sift through dark hair, loose and curling around Lena’s shoulders. Lena, used to her easy touching by now, doesn’t do more than shift to give Kara better access.

So instead of paying attention to the movie, Kara lets herself play with Lena’s long hair, braiding thick, dark strands into intricate designs before undoing it and starting again with something else. And then suddenly Lena’s head is in her lap and Kara isn’t doing more than stroking hr fingers through it, scratching her nails gently against her scalp with her eyes glued to Lena’s face.

“I don’t think you managed to watch more than ten minutes of this,” she says at some point, tilting her head back a bit to smile softly at Kara from her lap. Kara offers a sheepish smile and a shrug. “You could’ve asked me to turn it off, you know.”

“You like it.” Kara shrugs again. “And I said you could pick.”

Lena sits up and turns to face her, settling on her knees so that she sits slightly taller than Kara. Kara looks up at her, swallows somewhat nervously (Lena’s eyes are so direct and so… pretty. Gosh, so pretty) while Lena only watches her. “You did,” Lena agrees. “I was mean with my pick, I’m sorry.”

She leans forward and grabs her wine glass, bringing it to her lips.

(Kara follows the motion with her eyes, tongue swiping her lips reflexively.)

“It’s okay,” she manages, eyes quickly flickering back up.

Lena smiles softly and sets her glass aside again before reaching out to brush her knuckles across her cheek. “You’re too sweet for your own good. You know that?” And this time it’s Lena whose eyes shift, focusing on Kara’s lips before flicking up again. “You’re too good for me, Kara,” she whispers.

They stare at one another and Kara can feel her own heart beating, can hear Lena’s beyond it. And it’s Kara who closes the distance – slowly, carefully, but with an underlying currant of yearning she hadn’t let herself think about until just now – and urges her lips against Lena’s. She slips her fingers into her hair again and draws her closer.

“It’s not possible,” she whispers against Lena’s lips, “For anyone to be too good for you. You’re… so good.” Their foreheads bump gently together and Kara smiles, the tip of her nose brushing Lena’s. “I was kind of maybe hoping adult sleepover would end up here, to be honest.”

Lena laughs.

“What a coincidence. So was I.”

And then they’re kissing again, soft and slow and dreamy.


	8. I Can Fix That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena is getting ready for a gala she really doesn't want to go to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tumblr prompt fill, but short enough not to warrant its own fic lol. A little angsty bc I apparently love to Suffer. xx

**17\. Come here. Let me fix it. (Karlena)**

 

//

 

Her hands are shaking.

 

She hates that, hates the physical manifestation of her anxiety, the proof that she is somehow _less than._ Yet even as she grits her teeth and fights to steady them, they continue to shake as she fumbles with her hair.

 

“ _Damn_ it!” Lena slams her hairbrush onto her vanity and sags forward against it, hands pressed to the cool glass of its surface as she stares at herself in the mirror. “Get your shit together, Luthor,” she mumbles to herself, closing her eyes against the waves of anxiety shivering through her system.

 

“Lena?”

 

Her name reaches her from the doorway, soft, hesitant. Lena isn’t even surprised when she turns to see the broad shoulders of Supergirl filling her doorway, though she looks smaller than usual in this moment, her fingers twisting together in front of her as she watches Lena uncertainly.

 

“Your balcony door was open and I heard…” She lifts a shoulder, lets it fall. “Sorry. I thought you were in trouble. I can go…?” she motions back toward the hall, even takes a step back as if to follow through.

 

Lena watches her silently through all of this, almost remains quiet when she starts to back away. But the concern on her face is overwhelming and Lena sighs, shaking her head as she calls out a tired, “Wait. It’s fine. Please, come in, Supergirl.” And Supergirl hesitates a moment longer before taking her at her word and stepping into the room, crossing to sit on the edge of Lena’s bed.

 

“You can call me Kara when we’re alone,” she points out softly. “It’s okay.”

 

Lena presses her lips together, her eyes flickering down to the crest emblazoned on Supergirl’s chest before glancing away again to focus on her own reflection. “It’s hard to get used to thinking of you that way. It was easier when you were two people.” And in the mirror, she sees Supergirl – _Kara,_ her friend Kara – flinch visibly.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says in a whisper and it must be the fiftieth time she’s said it, Lena’s lost count. She closes her eyes in defense against the sound of it, but the guilt builds and builds in her chest until she’s almost breathless with the pressure of it.

 

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so short with you. I’m just…” She waves a hand to encompass her vanity, the scattered makeup, the pile of pins, the diamond hair combs she needs to somehow incorporate into her hair with the hands that won’t stop shaking. “I’m getting ready for a gala hosted by a friend of my father’s and I’m…” She smiles, but there is no humor in it. “I am not a fan of events that I don’t control, especially not with my father’s crowd.”

 

“You look beautiful,” Kara offers and Lena glances down at herself, studying the simple lines of the black evening gown she wears. There are diamonds clasped around her neck and at her wrist because it’s the kind of party where the women must sparkle and she hates how cold they feel against her skin.

 

“My hair is a disaster,” she says instead, sighing as she glances up to study the mess of curls again. She sees Kara in the mirror, watching her, studying her.

 

“Come here. Let me fix it.”

 

Lena’s shoulders go rigid and she nearly protests. The idea of letting Kara touch her as Supergirl now, after everything, makes her stomach pitch uncomfortably. But Kara is watching her with so much patience and understanding and it’s still _Kara,_ whatever uniform she wears. So Lena scoops up her handful of pins and the diamond combs and crosses to her bed, sitting on the edge of it while Kara shuffles back and perches on her knees just behind her.

 

And when she closes her eyes, it’s easy to forget the uniform. Kara’s hands are so gentle as they slide through her hair, working whatever magic she so often works on her own. Lena barely feels the tug and pull, barely feels the pressure of the pins sliding home. But she’s highly aware of _her_ , of the heat radiating from Kara’s body and soaking into her back, of the feather-light caress of her breath against her scalp, of the gentle graze of her knuckles against the nape of her neck.

 

She’s beginning to think her hands are now shaking for a different reason.

 

Kara secures the combs and then drops her hands, humming with obvious satisfaction.

 

“Beautiful,” she says again, and Lena stands to inspect herself in the mirror. And oh, Kara has outdone herself. Lena is certain she’s never felt that compliment as genuinely as she does in this moment, with her hair so intricately arranged and Kara’s eyes on her.

 

“Thank you, Kara,” she whispers, watching her in the glass as she stands again and offers a smile.

 

“What are friends for?”

 

And then she’s gone again and Lena is left wishing.

 

Wishing that Kara had never told her about her Superhero identity. Wishing that Lena could convince herself she still cared about that. Wishing that she didn’t want to call Kara back and sink into her arms and learn what it is to be… well. More than just Kara’s friend.

 

“Get your shit together, Luthor,” she whispers to herself once again before uncapping her lipstick.

 

She needs war paint to hide behind tonight.

 


	9. Kale and Kimchi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lunch date that led to Kara demanding "no kale" in 2x19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO LENA LUTHOR JUST WANTS TO SAVE THE WORLD AND BE A GIANT LESBIAN STEREOTYPE WHILE SHE'S DOING IT.

Okay, Kara isn’t usually picky with food, but… She doesn’t know what half the stuff on this menu is. She stares at the menu, reads down the list, reads the descriptions, and still can’t figure it out. But… well, there is definitely nothing fried on here. Nothing greasy or sugary or processed. Is any of it even edible?

Across from her, Lena hums, her brow creased as she studies her menu. Kara hears her stomach growl, probably too quietly for human ears to hear, and fights a smile when Lena shifts in reaction and subtly presses a hand to her stomach. She wonders when it was Lena last remembered to eat and quickly discards the notion of gently suggesting a new location. Lena needs something in her system.

Kara’s craving for a very large pizza can wait.

(Kara’s desire for any kind of protein that isn’t a bean can wait, apparently, because she doesn’t see any meat on this menu.)

“Hey Lena?”

“Hm?” Lena looks down at the menu another second before flicking her eyes up, smiling at Kara across the table. Kara’s stomach does this weird flippy thing and her expression shifts in baffled response, which makes Lena tilt her head. “Is something wrong, Kara? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine.” She waves a hand and smiles, setting her menu aside so that she can lean closer to Lena across the table. “Have you been here before?”

“No.” Lena laughs a little and shakes her head, finger tapping lightly against her menu. “But everything is locally grown and I’ve heard very good thing about their kimchi.” 

Kara narrows her eyes slightly. “What’s kimchi?” she asks with obvious suspicion and Lena laughs again, brushing a loose strange of hair from her face. She’s smiling at Kara in just that way and Kara’s glad that Lena isn’t the one with the super hearing because _that_ smile always makes her heart beat a little faster than normal and that’s kind of weird, right? A weird response to a friend.

(They’re just friends having a friendly lunch, as they do around three times a week. Sometimes more, but who’s counting?)

“Delicious,” is all Lena says in response and Kara’s eyes narrow further as the waitress crosses to them. Lena looks up and gives the teenager one of her patented Luthor smiles and orders her kimchi - whatever that is - and some of that disgusting tea stuff that Kara can’t stand. 

“I think… I’ll just have this, uh. Salad. The one right here.” She points to the menu and gives the waitress a smile before passing it back to her. “Thank you.”  Seems like a safe bet.  Can’t go wrong with a salad, right? 

//

Wrong. Very wrong.

The salad is placed in front of her and Kara has literally never seen a single one of these vegetables in her entire life. She lifts her fork and pokes doubtfully into the green of it, wondering what she’d ever done to deserve this. She’s a hero. She saves people’s lives. She deserves real, substantial food.

“It’s kale,” Lena supplies and Kara’s eyes snap up to hers, observing the way humor lights the green and brightens the blue of the halos around her irises even as she fights valiantly to contain her laughter. “It’s good for you.”

“Uh huh.” Kara is not a coward. Kara is _Supergirl._ Supergirl can’t be bested by a stupid vegetable. She sticks her fork determinedly into the salad, collecting a healthy amount on the tines before popping it valiantly into her mouth, eyes defiant as she looks across at Lena and chews. And then those same eyes go wide and her cheeks bulge in what she’s sure is a very unattractive manner but what in the _world_ did she just put in her mouth?

She swallows, choking a little at the mostly unchewed salad, and gulps down water. Across from her, Lena is stifling her laughter in the palm of her hand. 

“Are you okay?” she asks again and Kara glares at her through watering eyes, though there’s no heat to her expression.

“You knew,” she accuses, pointing with dramatic flare across at Lena Luthor’s bright grin. “You knew this was…” Her voice dips, trying not to ffend anyone around them, “Absolute _torture,_ and you let me put it in my mouth.”

“Oh, Kara.” Lena leans closer, lips curling. “You’re a big girl. You can decide what goes in your mouth all by yourself.” And then she’s leaning back and digging into her kimchi with a satisfied smirk while Kara turns bright red and gulps down more water.

//

(Later, she watches Kara cram an entire cookie into her mouth before telling her it’s vegan and Kara wants to die.

When they arrive back at Kara’s apartment, there’s a delivery boy waiting outside her door with a very large pizza and Kara very nearly tells Lena she loves her.)


	10. The Feel of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: kara low key "borrows" one of Lena's MIT sweatshirts.

She finds it lost in the cushions of her couch, discarded and forgotten on some movie night weeks before.

  
It’s a surprise to find it there, this little piece of Lena tucked away, hidden in her apartment. And it’s from weeks ago, Kara is sure of it, but it still smells like her and she finds herself pressing the sleeve to her cheek without realizing it.

  
There’s nothing special about the hoodie, really. It’s not made from anything different than any other hoodie in the world. It’s maroon, a deep red that’s not anywhere near bright as her super suit, and the bold MIT lettering is in plain white. No, nothing special, But Kara finds herself tracing each letter with a fingertip, something catching in her chest on her next breath.

  
She tugs it on over her own head before she can second guess herself, burying her nose in the collar with a small sigh. It’s too big on her - she remembers that it had absolutely swamped Lena the night she’d worn it over, she thinks it must be a men’s size - but she likes the way the cuffs slide down over her palms.

  
(And if she falls asleep wearing it, the hood drawn over her hair and the collar still tucked up near her nose, well… no one has to know.)

  
//

  
She slips one night and wears it in front of Alex without thinking.

  
Alex notices right away, of course, her eyebrows drawing together as she shoves popcorn into her mouth with a mumbled, “Who do you know who went to MIT?”

  
“Lena went to MIT.” She gives her sister a rather baffled look.“Why?”

Alex chokes a little. “Wait, is that Lena’s sweatshirt?”

  
Kara’s eyes go wide and she looks down at herself, exhaling a quiet _crap_ until suddenly she’s gone and back again and the hoodie is no longer in sight.

  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she offers, shoving her own handful of popcorn into her mouth. “This movie’s really good, huh? We should talk about the movie.”

  
“Kara.” Alex sits up straight, setting the popcorn aside as she faces Kara fully. There’s a smile teasing the corners of her mouth, one that grows wider and wider as Kara’s cheeks and ears burn redder and redder. “Why are you wearing Lena Luthor’s hoodie?”

“Shut up.”

  
“Oh my god, are you guys like, dating now? Is that finally happening? Holy shit.”

  
“Finally- _what_?” Kara whirls towards her. “What do you mean, finally happening?” She huffs when Alex only starts to laugh. “ _Alex_. What does that mean?”

  
“It means you’re both idiots.” She shakes her head, slinging an arm around Kara’s shoulders to tug her into a hug. “Huge idiot nerds. And yeah, the movie’s really good.”

  
//

  
Lena calls at close to 3am one night and Kara crawls out of bed, sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired, to fly over to her place. She knocks on her balcony door and Lena lets her in looking wide awake and rather apologetic.

  
“I’m sorry, I know it’s late,” she whispers, as if anyone else would hear them this high up, this late at night. Kara waves her off.

  
“It’s okay, Lena. You know I’m always here for you.” She offers her arms and Lena all but crawls into them, sinking into her hold as Kara floats them both back to Lena’s bedroom and cuddles her close.

  
(Not so unusual since the abduction, since the nightmares started, since Lena’s life had almost been forfeited – again.)

  
They’ve been laying there for nearly ten minutes when Lena draws back, her fingers lifting to rest gently against Kara’s chest. Kara barely notices, she’s already half asleep, though the way Lena’s finger traces her chest feels significantly different than it usually does when she plays her fingers over the crest of her suit.

  
“This is mine,” Lena whispers through the darkness and Kara’s eyes fly open, flying to focus down on herself. She flushes when she sees the upside down insignia of MIT, which she’d forgotten she was wearing when she flew over here.

  
“Oh, uh. Yeah. You… forgot it at my place.”

  
“Kara.” Lena laughs a little, glancing up at her from beneath her lashes. “I lost this hoodie nearly four months ago. Have you been holding it hostage for that long?”

  
Kara’s lips purse into a slight pout. “I was just… borrowing it. It’s comfy.”

  
“Thief,” Lena whispers, but it’s affectionate as she curls closer and settles her head on Kara’s chest. “You’ll have to trade one of yours for it.”

  
“One of my what? A hoodie?” And when Lena hums in agreement, Kara finds herself smiling because the idea of Lena in her school colors makes her feel almost giddy, that butterflies in her belly feeling that she gets when something makes her truly excited, truly happy. “Sure, Lena. I’ll trade you, ASAP. Because you’re definitely not getting this back.”

  
“Thief,” Lena repeats, her lips just barely brushing Kara’s exposed collarbone. It makes her shiver, makes her tighten her hold.

  
Lena doesn’t seem to mind. A single heartbeat later and Lena’s sighing against her, fingers curl into her sweatshirt to hold tight in return.


	11. The Feel of You (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody wanted more so here u go. I guess I technically could make this its own work... hm....

Despite the late hour of last night’s dreams, despite waking in a cold sweat and calling Kara and waiting until she showed up to crawl back into bed, Lena stirs with the dawn. It’s a habit, ingrained, an internal alarm clock conceived by a mixture of discipline and anxiety. And usually she wakes alert and fully functioning, ready to face a day of board meetings and (if she’s lucky) trips down to R&D.

This morning, however, she wakes warm and exhausted, burrowed in beneath blankets and a mountain of tumbled pillows, her brain foggy from lack of sleep. She’d been asleep for not quite three hours and she wants nothing more than to keep curled into her bed with…

Kara.

Kara, whose arms are still around her, she realizes. Kara, still clad in the sweatshirt of her _alma mater_. Kara, warm and solid and still here, still asleep beneath her with Lena’s head tucked onto her chest.

(With their bodies all but puzzle pieced together.)

And really, it isn’t uncommon, but it still feels like the wind is knocked out of her every time she wakes to find Kara there with her. A solid blow to the chest, one that makes her lungs collapse and her heart leap. Because no one stays, but Kara does, unfailingly, every time Lena calls for her.

She comes and she stays and she holds on and Lena doesn’t know what to do with it.

Lena exhales carefully and attempts to extricate herself. She needs to make coffee, she needs to dress for the day. She needs to peel herself away from Kara Danvers so she can slip into the mentality of _that’s what friends are for,_ far away from _please hold me, please kiss me, please love me as much as I love you._

But Kara’s arms tighten around her and her brow creases and her lips purse into a pout, even as her eyes stay closed.

“Not yet,” she mumbles, the words slurred with sleep.

And Lena finds herself sinking down into Kara again despite herself.

//

She pokes through Kara’s closet while Kara squirms behind her, the nervous gesture making her lips curl. And if she moves just a little slower to prolong the agony, well, that’s just for fun.

Finally she selects a faded blue hoodie with National City University scrawled across it in white, her fingers dancing across the letters before she turns triumphantly back to Kara.

“Mine,” she declares, brandishing the sweatshirt, and Kara’s eyes are wide and thoughtful as she studies her choice.

“Okay,” Kara says, her voice less playful than Lena expects, and it’s enough to turn the humor bright in her chest into something softer, warmer, as Kara steps forward and snags the hoodie from her hands. She tugs it over Lena’s head and Lena wriggles her arms into the sleeve as she pulls it down, settling the hem along her upper thighs.

(Kara’s fingers toy with the edges of the front pocket, knuckles brushing Lena’s hip bones through the material, and she tries very hard not to melt.)

“How do I look?” Lena asks, years of practice keeping her voice light and even, though her heart trembles in her chest.

Kara tilts her head and reaches up, her fingers sliding through Lena’s hair to smooth down the strands no doubt disrupted with static.

“You look great,” she says, her voice still soft, and Lena clears her throat as she breaks eye contact and looks down at the too-big hoodie that’s still somehow smaller than the one she’d forfeited to Kara.

“Naturally,” she teases and it makes Kara laugh before she wraps her up in a hug. Lena hugs her in return, face tucked into the curve of Kara’s neck.

(And that voice is back, the one that whispers, _please, please, please love me…_ )

//

Kara is in the bathroom attempting to scrub a stain from her shirt before it sets when the first knock comes on her door. Well, second technically, as Lena was the first, nearly two hours before game night was due to start.

So the second knock comes and Kara shouts for Lena to answer from where she’s scrubbing in the bathroom and Lena’s laughing still over her little baking mishap when she swings the door open and comes face to face with Alex.

And Alex freezes in the doorway, lips pursing, eyes roaming up and down.

“That’s Kara’s,” she says, jabbing a finger in Lena’s direction. Lena glances down at herself, a hand lifting absently to touch the tail of the ‘y’ at the end of University.

“Not anymore,” she says when she looks up again, eyebrow quirking, lips curling into a smirk. 

Alex rolls her eyes and steps inside, shoving a bag of groceries into Lena’s arms as she passes, but Lena can see the humor in those eyes that used to scare her with their intensity.

“You’re both so dumb,” she mumbles as she sets the second bag on the counter, Maggie following with a third and forth. “Maggie, tell Lena she’s dumb.”

Maggie rolls her eyes a little before offering Lena a smile. “How’s it going, Luthor?” is all she says as she sets her groceries down. Then she jabs Alex in the side and says something like, “Let them figure it out for themselves.”

Lena pretends she can’t hear them.

//

They’re lounging on Kara’s couch, each of them wearing their stolen hoodies. Lena’s head is pillowed on Kara’s stomach and she’s drifting, tired as always after a very long day. It doesn’t help that Kara’s fingers slide through her hair, slow and soothing, her nails just barely scratching against her scalp every once in awhile.

Lena turns her face into the warmth of Kara’s abdomen and hugs herself closer, sighing against the hoodie that used to be hers. “Don’t stop,” she mumbles when Kara’s hand stills and it resumes at once.

Lena eventually forces herself to move when she comes too close to falling asleep, shifting up the length of Kara’s body until she can flop fully across her chest, hair tumbling around their faces. Kara’s eyes meet hers, a little wide, surprised by the sudden change of position.

(They flicker once, too fast for Lena to catch their focus, and she wonders if she’s just imagining the way her lips tingle like they’d just been stared at.)

“Hey, Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“I hate to be a killjoy, but I don’t think I can make it through the rest of this movie. I’m about to fall asleep.”

“You can,” Kara offers hesitantly, fingers toying with the ends of Lena’s hair still. “I’ll wake you when it’s over, fly you home.” And it’s a sweet offer, really it is, but Lena shakes her head. Slowly, her eyes not leaving Kara’s.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she says, and this time it’s her eyes focused on, lingering on, the lips she’s had in her head for so long. She makes it obvious exactly what she’s thinking of even as her heart rate picks up, even as she feels her pulse thrumming in her wrists and at her temples. 

And abruptly Kara is sitting up and Lena’s in her lap, slightly taller as she looks down at her. And there’s no hesitation in Kara as her hands dive into the fullness of Lena’s hair and guide her down into a searing kiss. 

Lena meets her just as ardently, moaning softly against her lips, and Kara’s hands are suddenly everywhere as Lena thinks, _yes, yes, yes. Love me…_

//

On the floor of Kara’s loft, a red sweatshirt lays discarded on top of blue.

They are still there when the sun comes up.


	12. grief and dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara has a bad day and Lena shows up to help make it better.

It’s a bad day.

  
She hates when she loses people, when there’s no way to save them, when she has to choose between one life and and multiple. That woman had died not to a monster, not to a rogue alien or even a mugging gone wrong, but to a gas main explosion, to falling debris that Kara couldn’t stop because she had to hold up the building long enough for everyone to make it out before it collapsed.

  
And it isn’t her fault, she knows it isn’t, but her mind keeps playing scenarios of _what if_ and _if only I had._

  
She tells Alex she wants to be alone, turns off her phone, turns on the news so it’s a low murmur in the background just in case. And then she curls into her nest of blankets and burrows down into them to let herself be sad.

  
(Someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s friend, someone’s lover, dead because she couldn’t do it all. And it’s not her fault, she knows that, because she isn’t omnipresent and she can’t split herself into two people. But it still feels so heavy in her heart.

  
They all do, the people she can’t save.)

  
It’s an ache, a void, a wound, and she doesn’t even bother trying to fix it because she knows she can’t. She knows the rawness of it will heal over eventually, but it’ll leave another scar, another mark on her heart and mind that she won’t be able to erase.

  
Supergirl’s skin might be impenetrable, but Kara’s soul is not.

  
She is still sunk into the darkness of it when there’s a knock on her door and she hisses out a breath, shifting just enough to tilt her head and glare through her door to the other side. The glare falters and fades with surprise when she sees Lena and for a moment she considers ignoring her, considers just… curling up tighter and losing herself. But the pull of her is too great and there’s barely a hesitation before she’s swinging her feet to the ground and padding across hardwood to swing the door open.

  
“Lena,” she says, eyes flickering across Lena’s face. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

  
“Are you?” Lena’s eyes move over her in turn, sharp and searching, before they meet Kara’s squarely. “Bad day?”

  
Kara looks away and clears her throat, reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Just tired,” she says softly. Lena hums with something that sounds like disbelief and steps through the door, nudging gently past Kara with a couple of grocery bags dangling from her arms.

  
(And it’s funny because Kara’s the one with the x-ray vision, but sometimes she thinks that Lena might be able to see through her just as easily.)

  
Lena moves into her kitchen area and Kara watches her as she shuts and locks the door again, brow creasing, hands sliding into her pockets. She follows slowly, watching as Lena begins to remove groceries from the bags.

  
“Lena? What are you doing?” she asks softly and Lena glances up, an eyebrow quirking as she sends Kara a small smile.

  
“Grief baking,” she says simply.  
And then she turns on the small radio Kara keeps on the counter and begins.

  
A bit dazed, Kara stands and stares for another full minute before she rolls up her sleeves and moves to join her.

  
//

  
Lena can actually bake, which is a shock to Kara. She doesn’t know when the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation could possibly find the time for it, but apparently Lena squeezes in time to learn somewhere because she’s good at it. Kara’s apartment smells like heaven. The air is warm and aromatic as they close in on midnight with dozens of cupcakes, cookies, and other assorted goodies that she sneaks bites of as they work.

  
The song changes and Lena’s eyes go wide. She spins towards the radio and boosts the volume with a grin, claiming that she loves the song that’s playing, though she doesn’t sing along at all.

  
(” _I can’t carry a tune to save my own life_ ,” she’d laughed to Kara once upon a time, on a better day, a lighter day, when things were easier to say.)

  
She begins to dance around the kitchen, a little silly, not quite to the beat, her smile unwavering. And on a list of things Kara never would’ve expected to see, Lena Luthor dancing around her kitchen at midnight would make the top five, but it makes her smile despite herself. The weight on her shoulders feels a little less heavy.

  
When Lena catches her hands, she lets herself get tugged into the fun of it and it isn’t long before she’s laughing, they’re both laughing, circling the island with various kitchen implements as props.

  
They crash together at the end with smiles wide and bright, their hair tousled, Lena’s breaths labored from the effort. Kara bands her arms around her waist and hugs her close and Lena drapes herself around her shoulders in turn, nuzzling, the tip of her nose warm against Kara’s neck.

  
“Thank you,” Kara mumbles into her hair and she feels Lena smile against her.

  
“No problem. Anytime, Kara. Really.”

  
(And when the music turns slow, neither of them let go.)


	13. Kisses are for Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara thinks that kissing is a human custom that she might not be able to appreciate, being Kryptonian and all. At least until she's proven wrong. A belated tribute to International Kissing Day, as requested by an anon on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's honestly not great bc both me and my writing abilities are on vacation lmao, but enjoy. xx

Kissing is so human.

It isn’t the custom of most alien species, not even those who could easily pass as human. Like Kryptonians, for instance. Oh, maybe it had been at some point, but the existence of Matricomp, the computer whose job it had been to pair compatible Kryptonians together before its destruction, had rendered such things pretty much obsolete.

Kissing on Krypton, Kara remembers, had been something done only to seal wedding vows. Otherwise, it was rather antiquated.

So when she witnesses Alex Danvers kissing some boy from her class not long after she lands on Earth, Kara is confused and a little scandalized.

“Alex, such things are only for weddings,” she whispers frantically, tugging her sister aside. “You are far too young to get married.”

Alex yanks her arm away and rolls her eyes, shooting a glance towards her friends where they’re giggling together on the other side of the room. And oh, Alex is embarrassed by her again and her friends are laughing at her again and Kara will never understand Earth and its people and its customs.

“Maybe where you’re from,” Alex hisses at her, folding her arms across her chest, “But around here, kissing is different. Everyone does it, Kara. You’ve seen my mom and dad kiss.”

“They’re married,” Kara says, shuffling awkwardly, and her arms fold across her chest too. She looks down at her feet, murmurs an apology for misunderstanding Earth customs again. Alex only heaves a sigh and Kara can all but feel her roll her eyes again.

“It’s fine. Just… try to act normal, okay?” And after another moment’s silence, Alex walks away again. Kara hears her tell her giggling friends to  _stuff it_ before the rest of the party’s noise overwhelms her and she has to focus her hearing in again, concentrating on the beat of her own heart to block out the voices of the teenagers surrounding her.

Kissing is a human custom, she thinks again. One she’ll have to learn in order to blend in with these people who look like her, but are nothing like her in reality. They aren’t Kryptonians.

(No one is, except Kara. Not even Kal-El, who doesn’t remember anything of Krypton at all.)

She isn’t sure how she feels about that.

 

//

 

Kara learns.

She learns how to act human, how to speak like humans, how to mate – no,  _date –_ like humans. She learns how to kiss because it feels like an important part of it all, and actually finds that she really does like it, when she can get it right. It’s fun and warm and exciting.

It takes practice. She tries not to think of the noses she’s broken in the past with her eagerness to learn how to do it correctly. Calculating the right amount of pressure to exert takes time and experience and Kara starts to avoid it more than attempt it because it’s easier that way. Besides, though she enjoys kissing, it never feels like how other people say it’s supposed to feel. There are no fireworks, no sparks, no anything like that, and Kara wonders if it’s not just a human custom, but a human experience as well. Maybe she just can’t feel that the way humans do.

(The closest she’d ever come to feeling it was with James, but even that had only been a brighter warmth, like a glow. No explosions, no fire.)

She doesn’t realize it might just be a  _her_ thing until Mon-El – the Daxamite, a species related to Kryptonians – kisses her and expresses a desire to do so again.

She doesn’t want to kiss him again, but she wants to know why she doesn’t.

“You’re just not into him,” Alex tells her over pints of ice cream, shoving a spoonful in her mouth. “You said you liked it, right? And it was nice not to feel like you were going to break him in half. But if he doesn’t give you that spark, then…” Alex shrugs. “Then he doesn’t. He’s just not right for you.”

“But if anyone was going to be right for me, it would be someone who I’m not going to break in half, wouldn’t it?” Kara frowns down at her pint of Ben and Jerry’s. “It makes sense.”

Alex snorts out a laugh and jabs her spoon in Kara’s direction. “You’re trying to logic it,” she accuses. “That’s your problem, Kara. Relationships are never logical. He’s not going to miraculously be your perfect match just because your genetic makeup is similar.” She bumps their shoulders together, scoops up more ice cream. “One day you’ll kiss someone who’ll knock your socks off.”

Kara looks sideways at her, smirks. “Like Maggie?” she teases and bursts out laughing when Alex’s ears turn red. She grabs a throw pillow and smacks it against Kara’s face as she continues to laugh.

“Shut up.”

 

//

 

It doesn’t occur to her that she wants to kiss Lena Luthor.

They’re friends, they’re close, and Kara would do pretty much anything for her. She admires Lena, even loves her, and she’d thought it was the way she loved all of her friends. It takes her too long to realize the admiration she feels is more similar to how she’d felt for James than how she feels for, say, Winn. It takes her too long to realize the love might be different too.

It’s an average day, an average meetup. They’re in the R and D department of L-Corp well past business hours, side by side at a work bench as they discuss a project Lena is working on. Lena lets herself get enthusiastic about the science, her hands waving to emphasize her words, her eyes wide and green and bright with her excitement.

She explains a problem with the tech to Kara and Kara listens attentively, asking questions or making suggestions, and when she says something particularly helpful, Lena smiles at her.

And that’s all it takes.

It strikes like a lightning bolt, a realization that burns through Kara as she stares at her friend. And when Lena’s smile softens and then falls, when her expression becomes more searching, more uncertain, Kara realizes it’s the same for her.

It doesn’t occur to her that she wants to kiss Lena Luthor until she’s doing it, something she might be embarrassed about. Later.

For now, she’s too busy with warm lips and soft hair that she tugs free of its ponytail without realizing. Lena makes some sound and her body turns, presses, the curves of her fitting against Kara in a way that makes her inhale, one sharp breath as she combs her fingers through all of that tumbled black.

There are explosions, bursts of color. Fireworks. Heat. Kara is in awe of it as she draws Lena closer, holds her more firmly.

When she hears Lena’s lungs laboring, she draws back to let her breathe and they stare at each other with identical expressions of surprise.

And then Lena’s fingers are curling into Kara’s shirt and tugging her in again and she goes willingly.

 

//

 

Kissing is not only for humans, she thinks, but much, much later.


	14. Lena-Corp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tumblr request: Lena is a lesbian icon in-universe, or becomes one as she emerges from her family's shadow.

Lena isn’t famous. No, that particular word suggests that someone is well-liked and greatly admired, whereas Lena… Well, she’s pretty sure she’s not either of those things.

No, it’s more like she’s infamous by proxy, known for her family’s toil and misdeeds. The Luthors are very well-known, but it’s hardly ever for the good things they do. They know of her brother’s murders, but not the children’s hospital Lena had founded. They know of her mother’s attempted genocide, but not of Lena’s steps forward in clean energy (the L-Corp Green Initiative is working wonders, but that’s hardly public knowledge).

And honestly, Lena’s okay with that. She’s okay not being thrust into the limelight for her work, okay doing good in the background where hardly anyone observes it. She didn’t do these things for recognition, but to kind of… to kind of attempt to make up for all of the damage her family had caused. If she takes these steps, if she does good, then maybe she’s taken a step in balancing the scale.

And besides, saving the world, that’s a pretty good way to live life. Focusing on the good instead of constantly focusing on the bad and the ugly.

Lena had wanted to redefine the Luthor brand once, but the more time that had passed, the more she realized that it might be impossible. She can’t rewrite history, she can’t make people hear the name “Luthor” and think good things, no matter how many good things she does with the name attached to her. There will always be Lex’s deeds to counterbalance that, her mother’s legacy of hate, the fallout of her father’s insatiable greed.

But she can make people see her differently. She can’t redesign Luthor, but she can make Lena Luthor separate from them. She’s almost sure she can.

It starts with Kara Danvers.

Kara writes articles. The first, an article about her alien detection device, is written in such a way that she isn’t painted as the alien-hating Luthor prodigy so many had painted her as before. The next, a write-up of her gala to raise funds for the children’s hospital, humanizes her. Some articles, they write her like the whole thing was some grand scheme, like she’d done it for the notoriety and to draw attention away from her own bigotry.

Kara writes her like she’s a philanthropist and innovator, and she’s sure to highlight the fact that Lena was the one who stopped those (human) men with their stolen alien weaponry, the ones who’d done it to turn people against aliens. Lena, she’d written, had made sure it was known that it wasn’t aliens terrorizing National City.

And some pro-alien groups, for the first time in her entire life, had praised a Luthor for pro-alien actions.

There are more articles, always more. Kara’s boss learns of their friendship and is sure to make Kara exploit it, something she apologizes for on every visit that’s for business instead of socializing.

(The manage both, though. Kara makes sure they always manage both, that she ends the interview and clearly tucks away her notebook before lingering to chat with Lena a bit longer. These moments never fail to make Lena’s heart beat a little quicker with the sheer joy of them.)

Kara is the best kind of friend to have, though the fact she helps to create an image of a Luthor that isn’t dark and brooding and full of evil intentions is just a bonus.

Lena forgets after a while that she’s trying to recreate herself at all and instead just… enjoys their time together. Private time, time where she isn’t anything but Lena, time to talk about science and books and the history of the world that Kara is so fascinated by. Time to lean into Kara on her wide, comfortable couch while they watch some inane film that Lena enjoys despite how silly it is.

The shift in what she feels transitions so smoothly that she doesn’t realize it, and she doesn’t think Kara does either. Not until the smallest details become so big in her mind that they’re all she can think about. The warmth of Kara’s breath skirting along her temple, the brush of their hands as they walk side by side to the nearest cafe for their lunch break. The way Kara’s eyes linger on hers a beat too long at the tail end of a joke, stuck there even as their laughter fades until they’re just smiling at each other from across the table.

It’s been so long since she’s felt this way that it takes time to realize, and when she does, it’s hardly convenient.

They’re in the park. It’s the middle of the day, lunch break, and Kara’s surprised her with a picnic “just for fun, Lena.” So they’re in the park and Kara’s shoes are off and she’s persuaded Lena to kick off her heels as well. They’re full and laughing and Kara’s telling her a story, her weight resting back on her elbows, her head tipped back so that her hair waterfalls in a riot of curls down to the blanket. Her eyes are closed and there’s sunlight gilding the perfect twists of her braids and Lena’s breath sticks in her lungs.

Kara stops mid-sentence, hearing the way it catches, and her blue eyes blink open again as she looks up at Lena with concern. And she must see it, must feel it, because the concern changes to surprise and the surprise to something else Lena can’t read and then she’s pushing up off the blanket and shifting, closer, closer…

And when their lips brush, there’s some whisper in her mind, some sound like  _oh_ and some words like  _there you are_  and everything clicks into place.

With Kara’s fingers tangled in her hair, she feels like a person very much beyond her family’s legacy. One who’s forging her own.

//

Their kiss, she learns much later, is captured on camera by some passing teen on a skateboard.

It goes viral, the media exploding with reports of “Lena Luthor’s Lesbian Affair.”

It’s not the image she’s been trying to project, not the thing she wants to be known for. And at first, however much she’s enjoying her new… whatever this was with Kara, it’s irritating. She sees the headlines and grinds her teeth because, for fuck’s sake, her company should be the focus of these pieces on her. Her work, L-Corp’s outreach programs, the science summer camp for girls she’s trying to kick off next year, the scholarships L-Corp awards for girls going into STEM.

But instead, as she and Kara tentatively feel out a relationship, the cameras are constantly there, capturing each moment until she fears it’ll drive Kara away.

(It doesn’t, she never leaves. She only waves off Lena’s apology and smiles and kisses her and then suddenly they’ll duck down a dark alley or something and Kara will scoop her up and then suddenly they’re gone and Lena’s never been more grateful to have a superpowered… whatever Kara is to her. It’s convenient for disappearing off the radar for a bit.)

It’s irritating until the tweets start to come, and the letters. The ones from young kids thanking her for being so unapologetic about who she is. The ones saying she gave them the courage to come out, or to recognize something inside of themselves they’ve been denying for too long. The stories of people who’d seen her holding Kara’s hand at some charity event and it had made them see that there was more, there was better, that there was still happiness and success for people like them.

People who claimed she saved their lives.

It becomes less irritating and more overwhelming because it suddenly feels like something bigger, something heavier than she’d anticipated carrying. Not a burden, but a responsibility. One that she takes on with the same intensity that she takes on everything else.

She starts doing fundraising for LGBT related organizations, AIDS research, and so on. She builds an LGBT youth shelter at the heart of National City. She does a spread in OUT magazine and she somehow ends up leading the National City Pride Parade atop a large float, which Supergirl lands on halfway through the parade, much to the screaming delight of the crowd.

And it isn’t what she’d imagined for herself, but it feels good, right, to be the person people like her need to see.

(Still, she’s glad that they’re alone when Kara slips a ring onto her finger. Some moments should be just theirs.)


	15. you got me caught (in all this mess)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: supercorp on a rainy day

The skies are a dismal gray, dark and full of clouds heavy with the rain that has been falling steadily for the last three hours.

 

Lena is in an equally dreary mood and she works halfheartedly at her desk, longing for the days of R and D when she could work in a lab six levels below the basement. There the weather didn’t matter. There there were no windows to tell her how awful it was outside.

 

But here, trapped on the fifty-second floor of her building in an office with one entire wall made of glass, she can focus on nothing else. The rain taps against the windows and beats against her balcony and it fills her head the way a ticking clock might, or a dripping faucet. Lena’s never been the type to relax to the sound of rain, which was perhaps why Metropolis had held so little appeal for her and National City had seemed like Paradise.

 

But even National City’s decided to work against her, it seems, because the rain is heavy and unrelenting outside and it’s driving her up a wall.

 

So far up a wall, in fact, that she nearly jumps out of her skin when there’s a tap on her window, a half-shriek escaping her before she can stifle it. She whirls towards the glass with a hand clutching her throat only to face a sheepish Supergirl who mouths _oops_ from the other side. Lena stares at her and Supergirl (no, _Kara,_ she must remember to think of her that way) waves slightly, uncertain, though her smile doesn’t waver.

 

She’s dripping wet, her hair darkened with rain water and hanging in thick ropes around her face. The water rolls off her skin and soaks through her uniform. Her cape is sopping. Yet Kara seems perfectly unbothered as she lifts a takeout bag with her other hand and points to the balcony door.

 

Lena narrows her eyes and crosses to it, swinging it open so they can talk even as she blocks it with her own body. “You are _not_ coming in here like that, Supergirl. You’re an absolute mess.”

 

“Sorry.” Kara laughs a little and tilts her head back, looking up into the sky so that the rain splashes down on dimpled cheeks and the jut of her chin, over curved lips and across her scarred brow. It runs in rivulets down her arched neck and Lena thinks, not for the first time, how she wants to place her lips just there where her collarbones press against her skin, where the water collects in the dip of her throat before spilling down the front of her uniform. “I didn’t know it’d be raining when I got back from Metropolis.”

 

“I suppose you wouldn’t know to expect it in National City,” Lena decides, her eyes flickering back up to Kara’s just as Kara tips her head back down again.

 

“Nope, but I love it. It’s beautiful!” She all but shouts the last bit, throwing her arms out once and spinning in place so that Lena’s smiling before she realizes that she is, her arms folded across her chest as she watches Kara with something caught between amusement and affection. When Kara stops and holds a hand out to her, however, she takes a step in retreat.

 

“Oh, no,” she warns, holding her hands out to keep a grinning Kara at bay. “You aren’t pulling me out into that mess. Kara, no! I’ll be soaked through in seconds and _some_ of us have to work today.”

 

“It’s lunchtime. Plus, I know you have at least two other outfits in your office in case of emergencies.”

 

“My hair-”

 

“Looks great wet.”

 

“Well my makeup-”

 

“Is waterproof.” Kara waggles her fingers, blue eyes sparkling. “Come play, Lena.”

 

And cursing herself the entire time, Lena heaves a sigh and takes her hand.

 

They fly away from the building and Lena is surprised to find that the rain is warm, almost pleasant, against her skin. She finds herself smiling into Kara’s shoulder, though she still feels that inkling of discomfort that comes with flying in her arms. Not because she fears falling or any such thing (because Kara would never, ever drop her and Lena knows that perfectly), but because… well, it’s a rather undignified way to travel, what with her legs kicking out at nothing where they’re draped over one of Kara’s arms.

 

( _“You’re really good at keeping your shoes on though,”_ Kara had said once when Lena had made this observation and she’s still weirdly proud of that fact).

 

The eat their takeout on a rooftop of some random building, laughing and flicking water at each other between bites. Then they land in the park and stroll along the edge of the pond, Kara in street clothes now, both of them enjoying the sense of isolation that the rain brings, forcing people inside.

 

Lena is soaked through, her stockinged feet sliding in her equally soaked heels. Her hair is a mass of wet strands around her face and shoulders, curling now and sticking to her skin. And she’s never felt so wonderful.

 

Kara tugs her to a stop beside the pond and they watch a mother duck paddling with her ducklings towards shelter before Kara turns fully towards her with a grin. She brushes clinging black curls from Lena’s face and then lets her hands linger there, warm and soft against her cheek and neck, and Lena only smiles in return.

 

When their lips meet, the kiss tastes like rain and Kara and Lena decides that perhaps she likes the rain more than she initially thought.


	16. Willful Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I never got around to doing all the supercorp week days so here's the one I did do and never posted. 
> 
> Day 3 - supergirl reveal

There’s something to be said for willful ignorance, for the mind’s ability to dismiss the signs of something it’s not willing to believe.

Lena’s mind in particular is very good at this skill. It ignored the signs with Lex, it ignored the signs with her mother, and it’s again and again and again dismissed moments with Kara that added up to a bigger picture Lena didn’t want to see.

But now…

But now…

Kara moves so fast, curling around Lena with her whole body, the surprising span of her shoulders acting as a blockade as the bullets rain down on them. And oh god, Kara, she thinks so frantically through the blood rushing in her ears. Kara, with her sweet smiles and late night donut deliveries. Kara, who makes sure she never skips lunch. Her friend, her _best_ friend, standing between her and the bullets.

And when it’s over, Lena’s crying, great, gulping sobs gasping out of her lungs, tears falling though she never, never cries.

(Luthors don’t cry. Luthors don’t cry for themselves, but for their best friends, for the women they… Sometimes, sometimes they have to cry.)

Kara stands straight, just as frantic, her hands running over Lena as she babbles questions, asking if she’s hurt, if she’s bleeding, if, if, if. And Lena only stares. She can’t look away from Kara, with her hair a mess and her blue eyes so wide, free of the glasses that had fallen from her face somewhere in the chaos.  
They are surrounded by black-clad agents, but Lena can’t see anyone but the unscathed woman whose hands are running over her, looking for bullet holes that aren’t there because…

Because…

“You’re okay,” Kara breathes and Lena takes a jerking step back.

“ _You’re_ okay,” she shoots back, and her voice is fractured, accusatory. Kara looks taken aback for a moment at the tone before the meaning sinks in and there it is, Lena thinks with a bitter laugh, her hand swiping furiously across her damp face. Her tears are wasted here.  
Because Kara is standing still, the back and shoulders of her shirt absolutely shredded, the red and vibrant blue of Supergirl’s suit intact beneath it. Her hair is falling free of its pins and ties, familiar blonde curls that frame a face no longer hidden by her glasses. She’s whole, she’s alive. Unharmed.

And she didn’t tell Lena. She lied, she hid, she never, never mentioned that she’s-

( _You knew_ , a voice whispers, but she shoves it aside and folds her arms around herself because she hadn’t. She didn’t _want_ to know that Kara is-)

A coat falls across Kara’s shoulders, hiding the torn back of her shirt – no, hiding the suit – from view. Alex Danvers stands beside her and both Danvers are watching her now and Lena can’t stand it. She can’t stand that they knew, that she hadn’t known, that they could keep something like this from her. Something like the fact that Kara is-

“Lena.” Kara steps closer and there’s a crunch. All three of them look down and Kara winces at the sight of her glasses beneath her shoe, completely shattered. Another laugh escapes Lena, something on the verge of hysteria, and she steps back twice more as Kara gives her a rather pained look.

“Good thing you don’t need them,” she whispers. “Good thing, isn’t it, Kara? I’m sure your super vision can handle waiting for another pair.” And oh, there’s the guilt. The guilt and the worry and the apology and Lena doesn’t want any of it. She just wants to go home. She just wants to be… so far from here. Anywhere that isn’t here.

“There’s paperwork,” Alex says, uncharacteristically gentle, and Lena only presses her fingers to her eyes because of course there is. She knows the secret now, she’s in on it. There’s paperwork for silence, paperwork that symbolizes a trust she didn’t earn. A trust they have to give her now because she knows, she knows, and Kara didn’t tell her but she knows and they have to keep her quiet-

“Lena.” Kara steps closer again, freezes when Lena steps back so quickly she nearly trips over herself. And she hates, she hates, that she feels guilty for how hurt Kara looks because she shouldn’t. Kara lied, Kara hid. Kara kept things from her.

(Kara saved her life. Kara has saved her life more times than Lena cares to count.)

“Come on, Lena. I’ll escort you to the DEO.” Alex touches Kara’s arm and then moves forward and Lena turns sharply away from Kara to follow, her arms still tight around herself to hold herself together. It isn’t until she’s in the back of some nondescript black sedan that she starts to shake and shake and shake…

 

//

 

Lena holds the bowl of her wine glass between her fingers, swirling and swirling and swirling as she stares out at the city. And she’s waiting, she knows she is, she knows she shouldn’t be. Because there is nothing that can be said to fix this, nothing to make this better, nothing, nothing, nothing…

But she still wants Kara to try.

So when her boots land with the quietest of thuds at her side, Lena glances over. And she’s put together again, makeup fixed, clothes clean, hair neat. She wears her armor, she doesn’t shake, and she regards Kara with a cool look she’s practiced over and over in board rooms the world over. She knows the image she projects.

Just as she knows that Kara knows it’s all a facade.

“Supergirl,” she greets, and there’s ice layered over her name, a sardonic coating of it that makes Kara frown and wrap her arms around herself to ward off the chill. _Good_ , Lena thinks with something bordering on viciousness, and then hates herself for wanting Kara to hurt.

(She wants her to hurt as much as Lena hurts, to be as afraid as she is that this is it, that this is the end.)

“You know my name,” Kara says, quiet and oh, hurting, yes. Lena can all but feel it coming off of her in waves.

“So I do.”

“Lena…” Kara steps forward and this time Lena holds her ground, arms folded over the balcony’s railing, eyes on the city. “Please let me explain.”

“Explain which part?” Her lips curve, a smile Lillian would be proud of. “The part where you lied? The part where you don’t trust me? The part where you pretended to be my friend in order to keep an eye on the last of the damn Luthors?” And there it is, she thinks. The thing she’s feared the most. That this isn’t real, that it was never real. That she’d fallen in love with someone who was only ever…

“No.” Kara speaks so loudly, so firmly, that Lena’s head snaps around. “That was never what this was. None of that.”

“Oh?” Lena makes it clear that she doubts that. “Then what was it? Please, enlighten me.”

“It wasn’t about you, Lena.” Kara nearly shouts the words before closing her eyes and drawing herself back in again. Lena watches her, fascinated, as drawn in as always by the beauty of her. God, she aches with how beautiful Kara Danvers is. “It was never about you. It was about me. I was… I was being selfish.”

“Selfish?” Lena echoes, and the cool facade slips into confusion as her brow furrows and her body angles towards the superhero who is – was – also her best friend. “You hid who you were, lied about it, and your excuse is that you were selfish?”

“Yes.” Kara drops her arms, holds them out a moment in supplication before dropping them to her sides. “I was selfish, okay? I had you and I wanted to keep you and I thought if you knew… I thought if you knew, you wouldn’t want to stay.” Kara steps closer and Lena lets her, studying those entreating eyes with a frown. “I’ve only ever just… wanted to keep you, Lena. Someone who was just there… just there for me. Not for Supergirl.” Lena’s never seen Supergirl like this, shoulders slumped in defeat, brow furrowed with a deep sadness. She’s seen Kara like this though, just as she sees her now.

(Just as she’s always seen her, even if she didn’t want to believe it.)

“You have friends who love you,” Lena says, slowly now, never looking away from the blue, blue, blue of Kara’s eyes. “And family.”

“Yeah, I do. But there’s expectations there as well. They see me, but they also see Supergirl. They see me and they know where my duty lies and it’s always got to be to the city first, right? I never wanted you to doubt that I was there for you because I was. I _am_. I’ll always protect you, Lena.”

“You’ve said that before,” Lena realizes. “You’ve told me that before.”

“It’s still true.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Kara lifts her hands, holds them out like an offering as she gives Lena the words she’s so wanted to hear like they’re so simple, so obvious. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. Even if whatever I do means you’ll hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Lena nearly laughs at how surprised Kara looks. This time, she’s the one who steps forward, a hand reaching out to set her glass on the railing. “I could never hate you, Kara, because I love you too. I could only ever love you.” She presses her hands to her chest, right over her wildly beating heart, as if she could prevent it from leaping right out of her and landing at Kara’s feet.

Kara reaches out, reaches up, and Lena sighs as she cups her face and draws her in. She tilts her cheek into her palm, marveling at how warm it is, soft despite the miracles this woman performs daily.  
“Don’t hide from me again,” Lena whispers, and Kara nods frantically, leaning in to press their foreheads together.

Above them, the stars bear witness as a Super kisses a Luthor for the first time.

There is something to be said for the mind’s ability to dismiss the signs of something it’s not willing to believe.

But there is something even greater to be said for the heart’s ability to embrace those signs and love despite them.


	17. Superbaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes Kara two whole days to touch their baby...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted this on tumblr. Decided to toss it up here as well. Xx

It takes two whole days for Kara to even touch the baby.

  
She knows that she’s half Kryptonian, but the key word is _half_. They don’t know how much her Kryptonian blood will affect her physiology and so far she hasn’t really done anything but sleep and eat and no one wants to test it. She’s so small and looks so fragile.

  
Her skin is pale like Lena’s, the blue of her veins showing through where it’s thinnest. Her hair is dark like Lena’s too, a soft down of black hair that’s almost unfairly thick for a newborn, something Lena bemoans as “ _the source of all that goddamned heartburn_.” She looks so much like Lena, in fact, that Kara wonders if they’ve made a mistake and she ended up wholly human instead, which makes the idea of handling her all the more frightening.

  
Kara doesn’t touch her, but she can’t stop staring at her. She’s just so beautiful, so perfect. From her ten fingers to her ten toes, from the chub in her cheeks to the dimples in her tiny knees. Kara’s chin leans on the side of the plastic crib as the baby sleeps and Lena sleeps and the halls outside the hospital room are quiet. It’s late, or maybe it’s early, Kara isn’t sure. She can’t sleep.

  
She hasn’t felt so afraid of her own strength since Streaky and it’s strange that the worry should resurface now when she’s been in control of her powers for so long. But oh, yes, she’s afraid. _You won’t hurt her, Kara_ , Lena has told her throughout the last two days, but Kara still can’t bring herself to make the attempt. Because if they’re wrong, if she makes a mistake… she’s so small and helpless.

  
Who knew that it would be a tiny newborn baby that would bring Supergirl to her knees?

  
The baby begins to fuss. It starts as quiet snuffling that turns to a whimper. Kara glances nervously at Lena — she hasn’t been sleeping much — and than back down towards the baby. “Shh,” she coos. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep, baby.” But of course, being only two days old, the words mean nothing to her.

  
Blue eyes blink open, almost too wide in her small, sweet face, a moment before her features crumple and she lets out a wail. How so much sound can fit in one tiny body, Kara will never understand. Maybe she has super lungs after all.

 

With another nervous look at Lena, Kara shuffles to the side of the crib, reaching out towards the baby. She hesitates a moment before stroking her fingertips over her belly.

  
It isn’t enough. The baby’s upset sounds grow louder until Kara finally reaches out, one hand under the baby’s head and neck and the other under her bottom. Hardly daring to breathe, she scoops her up and settles her carefully into the crook of her arm.

  
And Rao, but she’s small. So small, so light that Kara hardly registers her weight. She fits into the curve of Kara’s body so easily and it must’ve been all she wanted because she settles again, peering owlishly up at Kara with her mittened hands curved against her cheeks.

  
“Hi, gorgeous,” Kara whispers, finally releasing the breath she’s been holding. “Hi there, baby girl.” She rocks her slowly, cant take her eyes off her. As the baby blinks up at her, she begins to sing a soft Kryptonian lullaby, delighted when it sends her off to sleep again.

  
“You’re a natural.”

  
Kara looks up to find Lena watching her from the bed, a small smile tilting her lips. “That’s pretty, what you’re singing.” 

“My parents used to sing it to me. I sang it to Kal-El sometimes when I kept an eye on him.”

“And now you’ll sing it to her. Our daughter.”

Kara smiles a little and looks down again, studying the way dark lashes curve against soft cheeks. Their perfect baby, this blessing that is both of theirs. “I will,” she agrees, dipping her head down to brush a kiss over those dark curls.

(It takes her two days to even touch the baby, but after that, it’s almost impossible to get Kara to put her down.)

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, you can find me at proudlyunicorn on tumblr. (:


End file.
